Happy New Year, Vic
by lovemesomelongmire
Summary: I've changed this story up a little bit. Ch 2 is Vic's POV when it comes to Happy New Year, Walt and picks up just after Ch 7/8 of that story. Will update this based on HNYW so we can all find out what's going on in her head for a change as that story goes along. My own idea of Walt and Vic's first meeting is in Ch.2. Read on!
1. Chapter 1

**This was my first Longmire fic. Once upon a time, it stood alone. Now, it's somehow become entangled with Happy New Year Walt...Well, why not, right? LOL Hope you like what I've done with this:) Enjoy!**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR, VIC…**

"So…did you have any plans for New Year's, Vic?"

I glanced over at Walt, knowing why he was suddenly engaging in small talk, but not quite ready to let him off the hook.

"Apparently, _someone _decided that a trip to Whitefish Montana and back by car would be a good way to spend New Year's Eve. Now who the fuck would ever think THAT was a good way to spend the day?" and even though it was dark out, I still gave him a frosty look, hoping he'd be able to see it by the dashboard lights.

"Getting that scumbag off our hands was worth the trip, I thought"

"He was kind of stinking up the place" I admitted, "but geez, Walt, couldn't Whitefish come get him instead?" and I let out an exasperated sigh. I KNOW he heard that! I glared at him.

In total stubborn defiance of my glare, he kept his eyes straight ahead, focused on the road, but I knew he was feeling it. I wasn't really all that upset, though, but he didn't need to know that. I could've been out dancing at the Red Pony, I could've been pounding back a few beers and shooting some pool, I could've been wearing something nice and flirting with some mysterious stranger, if one had existed in Durant, Wyoming, but in actual fact, I probably would've had one, maybe two beers at the Pony and then gone home to my sweats and Netflix and toasted my wilting houseplants with a shot of whiskey instead.

Christmas had been bad enough, although it had been great fun having dinner at Henry's place with the gang, but the 'gang' was beginning to feel like the Lonely Hearts Club, none of us being attached or even dating. It was okay though, because Christmas is the time for friends and family, so it was said, and the Absaroka Sheriff's Department personnel _were_ my friends and family, but New Year's well, that was a different scene altogether. In my experience, New Year's was about partying, getting drunk, getting layed, in that order, and waking up the next morning feeling like shit, which wasn't much of a way to ring in a new year, but it was tradition for fuck's sake!

Okay, so I was older now and that kind of New Year's debauchery had been behind me once I'd married Sean, but I was since divorced, and there wasn't a single, solitary guy I could imagine getting drunk and going home with….except, well….maybe the big doofus beside me, but he REALLY didn't need to know that, either! (He's actually not a doofus, but thinking that just helped keep my 'mad' going.)

A slight smile tugged at my lips as I pictured Walt and I staggering out of the Red Pony, totally shitfaced, clinging to each other in an attempt to stay upright. Maybe we'd make it to the Bullet, fumble around with the tailgate for awhile and then crawl in the back and get it on like a couple of horny teenagers…but eww, Walt kept dead bodies in the back of his truck, so that kinda ruined THAT fantasy.

''Something wrong, Vic?" I must've 'ewwed' out loud

"Just gas…that diner we stopped at was pretty raunchy" and I mean, why not make him feel REALLY bad for dragging me out and away from my couch and my sweats?

"Okay, I get it, Vic. You're pissed at me…"

"Oh, I'm not pissed, Walt, but I wish I were."

"We'll be back before midnight. I'll buy you a beer at the Red Pony" and I caught his quick glance and was that the tiniest of apologetic smiles I saw? I reached out, gave the hand that rested on his thigh a quick, light pat and he gave a little jump

"It's okay" I told him. "I just had to give you a hard time, Walt. It's actually not a bad drive right now" and it wasn't. The stars were out, the moon hung high and almost full in the night sky, bathing the snow-covered plains and mountains in silver light. We were the only car on the road and it was…peaceful.

"You've given me more than enough hard times, Vic" and the way he said it made my jaw drop. I stared at him, open-mouthed, wide-eyed and the sneaky bastard actually smiled and winked at me!

"I knew I could shut you up", he chuckled. I slapped his shoulder.

"Walter Longmire, you dirty old man!" I laughed. "Your timing sucks, though. We're almost home."

"It takes me awhile to warm up and isn't anticipation the best part of foreplay anyway?"

I actually gasped after that one. Holy fuck! I shifted in my seat to face him a little more fully. This was not the Walt I was used to!

"Are you serious?" I squeaked. He smiled broadly and brought his hand up towards my face and I couldn't believe he was going to touch me. I held my breath….

…and his hand grabbed – his coffee mug.

"Gotcha" he laughed softly and yes, he had and I could only chuckle, but for the smallest of moments there, I really thought he was going to touch me….and I'd loved that thought. I turned back in my seat, looked out the passenger side window to get myself under control.

"Shit" I heard him curse under his breath. "Hang on, Vic" and my head snapped back to face front and that old adrenaline kicked in.

"What is it?" I asked seriously.

"Over there" he pointed left. "There's a fire" and I followed his finger and saw it, about 200 yards off the road and that's where we were headed, plowing our own way through the snow. It was a bumpy ride.

"That's old man Johnson's place" Walt informed me as he manhandled the Bullet over the frozen field.

"He's the guy that fell off his horse and broke his leg, right?"

"Yup…"

We were close enough to see that the house wasn't on fire, but the barn was. I grabbed the mic and radioed the FD. ETA was going to take longer than we both liked.

"I'm gonna pull up to the house" Walt began, all business now, 'you get him out, just in case. I'm gonna head to the barn and make sure there's no livestock in there."

"Okay" I replied. I'd undone my seatbelt as we were almost at the house.

Walt brought the Bullet to a sliding halt. We both jumped out, heading in opposite directions.

"Be careful, Walt!" I yelled as I raced up the stairs and pounded on the front door. "Sheriff's Department" I hollered. No answer. I tried the door but it was locked. I readied myself; kicking a door down is not as easy as it looks in the movies.

"One, two, three" I counted under my breath and hauled off. The door flew open. It was dark inside I drew my gun and headed in.

"Mr. Johnson", I called out, making my way cautiously through the living room, "this is Deputy Moretti from the Absaroka Sheriff's Department. Call out if you can hear me…" and I listened hard but there was no answer. I found a light switch and turned it on. The place was neat and tidy…maybe a little too tidy. I made my way down the hall, opening doors as I went. Two bedrooms, beds neatly made. No sign of anyone. I headed back outside and made a quick sweep around the exterior; no vehicle to be seen. I holstered my gun and headed for the barn at a run.

"Walt!" I called out. The barn was really blazing now and I could feel the heat on my face. "WALT!" and I felt a thrill of panic. He wasn't in there, was he? Sweet Jesus… Just as I was heading for the door, I saw him. He was off to my right, watching the fire. I ran to his side in relief.

"No one inside" I reported. "Looks like no one's been there for a few days. What about the barn?"

"I got a quick look before the fire really took off" he said and it was then I noticed the soot on his face. "I didn't see any signs of animals"

"Thank God" I breathed. "We gonna wait for the FD?" I asked.

"Yup, but first I have to check something out. You stay here"

"No way in hell are you going back in there, Walt"

"I'm not. Just gotta check something out. You stay here, I mean it!" and before I could reply, he was on his way around the barn. I'd barely begun to get out a good mutter of what I thought about him telling me to stay when he was on his way back, like a bat out of hell, waving his arms frantically.

"Run, Vic!" I hesitated and he flew at me, grabbing my hand, almost pulling me right off my feet.

The guy could move and he was dragging me in his wake. I thought we'd head for the Bullet but he was hell-bent for the road. My heart was beating so hard that I could hear it in my head as I tried to keep up to him. Both of us were panting like a couple of over-worked race horses and I was wondering how much further I was going to be able to go. That's when we hit the ditch or perhaps I should say, that's when Walt threw me in the ditch and threw himself in almost on top of me. He was covering me, that was for sure and I was thankful for the deep snow that kept him from completely crushing me.

"What the hell – " I started indignantly but I was cut off by an ear-shattering explosion that rocked the earth.

I lay there, Walt on top of me, both of us gasping for breath while the whole world seemed to explode around us. I braced myself, squeezing my eyes shut, clapping my hands over my ears ,hunching my shoulders up in some weird attempt to protect my head, while I waiting for some kind of shit to rain down on us. I could feel Walt tensing for the same.

Among the blasts came screaming whistles and after a few moments of sound without getting pummeled I felt Walt move off me. Then he shook me. I took my hands off my ears, opened my eyes and saw flashes of coloured light. Walt was on his butt beside me, looking towards the barn. I crawled over to him and got on my knees to take a peek. I couldn't believe what I saw.

Oh, the barn was still blazing, but that wasn't what made me gasp. The whole sky over Ben Johnson's place was ablaze with fireworks! Red, yellow, green starbursts of colour exploded above us. I looked at Walt; he looked at me. He'd lost his hat somewhere.

"What the fuck…?" I breathed in awe.

"I saw the propane tanks out back" Walt told me in between blasts, "and I knew it was going to blow, but I wasn't expecting this!"

"The crazy bugger must've had 'em stashed" I said softly, turning my attention back to the colourful display.

"Yup" Walt agreed.

He put an arm around my shoulder, causing me to look at him once more. He was smiling that rare and beautiful smile of his. He glanced at his watch and then moved his head closer to mine. I felt his breath in my ear.

"Happy New Year, Vic" he whispered and his soft lips grazed the curve of my jaw.

I turned slightly so that my mouth met his. I closed my eyes and indulged one of my fantasies. I put both hands on either side of his face and opened my mouth. He responded in kind. The fireworks suddenly seemed to be inside of us. He crushed me to him, I clutched two handfuls of his hair. His hands slid up my sides, beneath my coat, as mine were making their way over his shoulders and down his chest. I was thinking 'this was it, we were going to do this' when the barn decided to explode.

The noise was thunderous, tearing us apart.

This time, there was a shit-storm of flying wood and we hit the ground once more. I landed on my back, Walt was over top of me. The initial blast seemed to be all the old barn had left in it. In the distance, in between the continual boom of the fireworks, I heard the sirens that heralded the arrival of the FD. I don't know what came over me - perhaps the thought that the barn's explosion was a sign from above that Walt and I had gotten just a little too friendly - but I started laughing. Softly at first.

It was a sight, Walt on his hands and knees above me, straddling me while the world exploded in colour and noise above us; I almost expected to hear 'Auld Lang Syne' blaring from somewhere. Walt laughed, too, quietly as he gazed down at me and the laughter grew until he collapsed beside me, both of us gasping for air but not quite able to completely stop.

"Not such a bad night afterall" I managed to get out. "Some fireworks, hey?"

"You can say that again" Walt replied as he propped himself up on one elbow and I knew he wasn't talking about the pyrotechnics in the sky. He slipped a hand inside my open jacket and placed it on my belly. I was willing to tempt another explosion. I reached up and caressed the side of his handsome face.

"Happy New Year, Walt" I told him. He leaned down, placed his lips on mine and the fireworks in the sky above us were nothing compared to the fireworks he'd just ignited inside of me…

THE END…or just the BEGINNING?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:**

**So here's that Vic's POV I mentioned in Ch7/8 of HNYWalt. Starts off the morning after but delves in to how and when Walt and Vic first met. Hope you enjoy it! I sure enjoyed writing it. Vic's a lot of fun! Will update this as I update HNYWalt, so stay tuned. Think of the two stories as companion pieces and I'll try not to confuse the hell out of you all and myself! LOL:) HNYWalt will always be the lead story.**

**Update Oct.30...yes, I'm still working on this:)**

**Update July/2016...yup, uh-huh, I'm STILL working on this:)**

**CHAPTER 2**

So, my take on the trip to Bozeman had been a dream.

The barn on fire, the fireworks themselves, heading for the ditch, Walt landing on top of me, not once but twice. Feeling me up that last time when our lips had finally met. A sweet dream, for sure, but nothing compared to the way that trip had actually ended up.

Sure, in real life there'd been plenty of kissing and groping and grasping between us. So much better than my dream, and there'd been words and interruptions, frustrations and words maybe not coming out the right way, but there'd also been the New Year celebration at The Red Pony, me sharing time with Cady, which was totally weird but actually fun and then there'd been Walt, slightly shit-faced and hornier than a teenager. Myself, I'd had a few drinks, maybe more than anyone really knew about and I'd more than likely been over the legal drinking limit when it came to driving (HUGE no-no), because I remembered asking Walt to be my lover and I'm not sure if I would've done that without the alcohol. But then again, his hands all over me, the bulge in his pants pressed against me, his obvious desire to finally have sex with me was probably intoxication enough. I know he'd almost said the L word, had felt a tad disappointed when he didn't, but I was glad he hadn't. We were both so on fire for each other that I was glad that complication had never really come up, especially when we were alone in the parking lot of the bar. And then, at his cabin, finally and truly alone at last. Able to do the things to each other that we'd both obviously been wanting to do…forever. Couldn't speak for him about that, but on my part, I'd wanted him a very, very long time. I'm sure there'd been words from him to the same effect….

But wait just one fucked up minute here! What if ALL this was just another dream? It was possible, wasn't it? I knew I wasn't totally awake. I could feel myself drifting around in Limbo Land and I know I'd been here before, so convinced that what I'd just dreamt had actually happened. So many of my dreams of being with Walt had ended up feeling so real only to turn out not to be at all. And I'd wake up, frustrated and disappointed as hell. Okay, let's just call it a dream. That way when I truly did wake up it wouldn't hurt so goddamned much!

"What a fuckin' awesome dream, though," I thought to myself. I could feel the smile on my face even before I was awake enough to be conscious of smiling. Eyes still closed, I stretched languorously, reliving that dream feeling of being with Walt at last.

That's when my hand met the warm flesh next to me. That's when my eyes flew open and I knew the dream had been reality. That's when my heart stopped and I snatched my hand away from him.

The first thing I saw in the soft glow of the bedside lamp was the ceiling above me. Wooden rafters. My eyes travelled downward. Log walls. Indian blanket nailed up across what had to be a window. A closet, one door open. A dresser. Everything made of wood. This was definitely not my apartment. As if I needed to see any of this to tell me I wasn't home in my own bed!

But I felt like I was home…

Now that I was awake, my other senses seemed to come alive. I could smell wood smoke and something else. What did Walt call that stuff? 'Sweetgrass'. That was it! A great descriptive word because that's exactly what it smelled like – sweet grass. He'd shown it to me once upon a time. Long, long strands of grass, done up in a braid and left to dry. Used in offerings to The Great Spirit. Burned so that the smoke took prayers up to the heavens…

What kind of prayers did Walt send up there? And why the hell was I thinking about THAT? If I wanted to know that badly, all I had to do was roll over on my side, wake him up and ask him. The thought of being able to do that blew me away!

I was HERE, in HIS bed! IT HAD ALL ACTUALLY HAPPENED! ALL OF IT!

I'd been to the cabin quite a few times over the years. I'd helped him hang that damn door in the bathroom that was connected to this bedroom, so I'd been here, but never in his bed. Had wanted to be more times that I could keep track of, had dreamt about it almost since the day I met him. Okay, maybe not quite THAT far back! The day I'd met him, I'd been so pissed off at him without ever having seen his face...

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Four times I'd shown up at the office with an appointment to see him after having dropped off my resume with Ruby. Four times that poor woman had had to make excuses as to why the Sheriff wasn't there to interview me. Each time, I'd gotten angrier and angrier. Not with her! I'd come to like her. Her awkward, uncomfortable attempts to cover for 'the Sheriff' had kind of endeared her to me…but I was anything but endeared to the slack-ass Sheriff of Absaroka County! I wasn't particularly endeared to the County itself. It had felt like I'd moved to the Twilight Zone. Like I'd ended up in some throw-back Western town. Like I'd somehow been transported back in time to a place like Tombstone. Yeah, that was a great movie…but Jesus, I'd never expected a place like this to actually exist in the twenty-first century good old U.S. of A.

Hadn't surprised me one little bit to see a horse and rider meandering down Main Street. What had surprised me was that they actually drove cars in this fuckin' weird place! Yeah, a lot of pick-up trucks; no surprise there!

What a switch this place had been from the streets of Philly! Wide open spaces, rinky-dink little towns scattered along the way. So much room to roam. Even the people were so different. No one hurried, they all just seemed to saunter along about their business. Not one suit in the bunch! No skyscrapers, no traffic congestion, no constant noise and chaos.

Yeah, in those first few months, I'd missed all that shit! Hard to believe, but true.

Main Street was the hub of town, as the name implied. If you wanted something, you went to Main Street. No big-box stores, just mom and pop operations. If you were looking for Taco Bell or McDonald's you were out of luck, buddy.

Time stood still in Durant Wyoming. It truly did feel like a set for some old western movie. Back then, it had amazed me that the streets were actually paved! History was alive and thriving here. Even the Sheriff's office blew me away. No fancy steel and chrome building; nothing like the 5th precinct office I'd worked out of in Philly.

The office itself had been a library once, as Ruby had told me on one of those four times I'd stopped by. She'd taken it upon herself to talk to me when it became frustratingly obvious that the Sheriff wasn't going to be bothered to.

The first time I'd gone there, I'd opened the door and had just stood there, looking up the old wooden staircase that was the only entrance to the place. Yeah, a person had to give themselves a heart attack just to climb up there. That first time, I'd been dressed up. Fitted jacket, knee length skirt, low heels, but heels nonetheless and looking at those stairs had made me roll my eyes and let out a sarcastic sigh. If I'd known I'd have to climb a mountain just to drop off my resume, I would've worn something a little more casual.

In and up I'd gone. At the top of the stairs, there was a landing. Everything made of wood. A closed door stood before me. A long wooden bench sat against the wall to my left. There was another door further along. I listened, but didn't hear anything.

Okay, the door in front of me it was. Had to be. Then I noticed the sign next to it. One of those plastic thingies that you could put letters on and move them around. It was the first 'modern' thing I'd seen, even if it was circa the 1970's.

"Sheriff's Department" it simply said and underneath that were listed names. Sheriff Longmire. Deputy Connalley. Deputy Ferguson. That was it? Three people made up the whole police force in this backwater town? Maybe not so surprising after all. What the hell was there to this town anyway? Not much, as far as I'd been able to see. Their biggest crime was probably someone stealing someone else's horse!

I opened the door and entered what I took to be the reception area. Ahead of me, a low wooden fence, complete with gate separating this area from what could only be the bull-pen. I saw a few desks, again, all wood, but no people. Wood everywhere. A fireplace that looked unused. A dead animal head mounted above it. Eeewww. And yet, at the same time, why not? What a strange, creepy place!

"Can I help you?"

The soft voice came from my right. A beautiful, older woman sat at yet another wooden desk. She was smiling at me and I couldn't help but soften at the sight of her warm, friendly face. Sure didn't see much of that in Philly. I was a little taken aback by the sight of a computer monitor and keyboard on her desk. Think I must've been expecting a typewriter and maybe a telegraph set up.

"I'm, uh, looking for the Sheriff."

"Walt's not in at the moment. Maybe I can help you."

'Walt'. At least it wasn't 'Wyatt'. Close, though.

"Okay…My name's Victoria Moretti. My husband was transferred here not that long ago and I was wondering if there was an opening in the department?"

"Well, I'm the full time receptionist /dispatcher here, but we could use a hand on weekends if you're interested. No need to see the Sheriff. I can handle that!" She stood up and held out her hand.

"I'm Ruby. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Moretti."

"Oh…um…" I switched the folder containing my resume and certifications from my right to left hand and met her hand with my own in a firm shake.

"I'm not 'Mrs. Moretti' and I'm not here about a receptionist job." Awkward!

A puzzled look crossed Ruby's face.

"But you just said your husband wa- "

"Yeah, well, I kept my maiden name when we got married and I'm a cop. WAS a cop, uh, I mean 'police officer' back in Philly…uh, I mean, Philadelphia. Technically, I'm still a co- "

Getting awkwarder by the moment. I let go of her hand, took a deep breath and started over again.

"Okay, here's the story. My husband got transferred here from Philadelphia without a lot of notice. He works for an oil company. I worked for the Philadelphia PD until this happened. What I'm looking for is a job with the Absaroka Sheriff's Department as a….as a deputy."

I had to think of the word. Already had trouble saying 'Absaroka'. Not officer. No rank, just 'deputy'. So freakin' 'wild west'.

Ruby actually laughed. At me? I studied her. No, not at me.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion! I just assumed – "

I relaxed. I should have expected this.

"It's okay. No need to apologize. I should've been clearer. Looking for a new job isn't something I have a lot of experience with," and that had been true.

I'd been raised in a family of cops. My dad was one, my four brothers all worked in law enforcement and I'd taken to it myself. Good old family tradition. Italians were big on tradition.

"Oh, well, you're definitely going to have to talk to Walt about this," and Ruby had sat back down at her desk and began flipping pages in a beat-up, dog-eared notebook. She indicated the chair in front of her desk and I sat down.

"Um….like I said, he's not in right now. Don't know for sure when he will be….Let me just try to set up an appointment for you…"

What, the Sheriff didn't have set hours of work? Ruby seemed a little flustered. What was the big fuckin' deal? Just give me a time and I'd be there.

"How about….how about tomorrow afternoon? Let's say….fourteen hundred hours? I should be able to get a hold of Walt by then." She looked up and smiled expectantly at me. She also looked a little…nervous? Uncertain?

"If he's out of town or something – " I began.

"Oh, no! He's not!" Too quick with that reply.

"He's just…uh, busy! Lots going on these days and all," and again with the nervous smile. What the hell kind of place was this? Was the Sheriff some old drunk or something? Maybe I should rethink this…

"Look, leave your resume here with me. He could show up later today. One way or another, I'll make sure he gets it."

Ruby seemed to be getting it under control.

"I've set your appointment and I'll make sure Walt's here to meet you tomorrow." She sounded confident, but her eyes betrayed her uncertainty.

What the fuck? How I kept from saying that out loud amazed me.

"Okay," I agreed, getting to my feet, leaving my folder on her desk. "Fourteen hundred hours tomorrow it is. I'll be here." I put an emphasis on the 'I'll'.

Ruby rose as well and offered me her hand again.

"That's wonderful, Victoria! I look forward to seeing you again. I'll make sure Walt gets this if he comes in before then."

"Thanks, Ruby…and by the way, only my mother calls me 'Victoria'. On the off chance that I end up working here, you might as well just call me 'Vic'."

"Oh, that's not a nice name for such a pretty young girl." She actually wrinkled her nose.

"Maybe I'm not that nice," I winked at her as I went to the door. I smiled at the shock I'd seen on her face. Yeah, might as well dispel that image right off the bat! Had a funny feeling that if there had been a job opening, I wasn't going to be the one to get it. Oh, well….This fuckin' Walt sounded like a piece of work anyway.

As I left the office, I couldn't shake the image I had of him in my head. Drunk and passed out somewhere while the lazy, sleepy world of Durant went on without him…

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Lying in bed next to Walt in the here and now, I had to smile. I rolled over on my side and gazed at him. He looked a lot like that first image I'd conjured up of him in my mind that day.

He was sprawled out on the bed, face down, passed out big time! He was snoring, softly. Drunk? Yeah, he'd done more than his fair share of drinking last night, but it was more than that that had him passed out this hard! The 'more' made me smile. Made butterflies dance in my stomach and started a sweet heat in those 'woman' parts of mine.

Oh, fuck me! I had to clap my hands over my mouth to keep the laugh inside. I sure didn't want to wake him up. Oh, yeah, he'd done just that, big time! Not just once, but twice, three times, probably even four; I'd lost track. One time just slipped in to another, the way he'd slipped in to me.

I couldn't keep the groan that thought brought from escaping me.

I'd know for a long time now that he'd be magnificent! I'd spent countless hours in my own bed, thinking imagining, fantasizing about what he'd be like, but none of it had really prepared me for just how totally awesome and mind-blowing he actually was. He'd found places outside and inside of me that I hadn't even known where there! He'd filled me up to the point of not knowing where he stared and I ended! He'd taken me from one earth-shattering, mind blowing, emotional climax to another, over and over again.

I wanted to laugh again, recalling how I'd gotten him with that champagne bottle strip-tease! He'd been so embarrassed when he hadn't been able to keep it together, but I'd been so turned on by the sight of him losing it. Just thinking about it made me want to roll him over and crawl on top of him!

I hadn't been able to stop myself from doing what I'd done next. It wasn't something I'd ever done as willingly as I'd done it for him. I'd wanted to take his embarrassment away, was glad it had happened so the next time wouldn't be so rushed. I'd wanted to worship him, to show him that I thought he was worthy of me getting down on my knees for. And oh, sweet Lord, he most definitely was!

When he'd pulled me up and over his body, when he'd carried me naked in to the living room and thrown me on the couch, when he'd crawled on top of me it had been the beginning of the most sensual, orgasmic experience of my entire life!

Just thinking about it sent a sweet heat through me. Sent desire rushing through my body. I had to clasp my hands together to keep them from roaming all over his naked body. As badly as I wanted him again, I didn't want to wake him. I wanted to watch him sleep, the way I had those times when he'd been unaware of me doing so.

He was so handsome! Almost too handsome in that earthy, rugged way of his. Hard. Tough, even mean looking sometimes when he was awake and aware, but asleep, there was a vulnerability about him that almost stopped my heart. I so wanted to touch him, to feel that vulnerability with my hands. I wanted to caress his face to let him know that this was a part of him that I welcomed just as much as I'd welcomed his passion.

The urge to feel him was so strong that I had to roll away from him. I slid my hands under my pillow, to cradle its feathery softness against my face. Let him sleep. Let him dream. Let him stay sweetly vulnerable for a little while longer. He was at peace...and he deserved that, finally. My desire for him could wait.

I lay there, staring sightlessly at the log wall, trying to calm my breathing. I found myself drifting off again in to the past. To that day I'd met Walt for the very first time….

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Four times, Ruby!" I yelled as I slammed open the door to the main office. Climbing the stairs had become a piece of cake for me. Flying up them today and been nothing! I was breathless with anger, not exertion.

"Four fucking times that asshole has stood me up!"

There was no pretense between me and Ruby anymore. After all, we'd gone through this dance four fucking times already! We'd come to know each other and she was used to my swearing by now. The first time she'd been shocked. This last time, she didn't even bother getting up from her desk.

"Four fucking, goddamn times that arrogant prick has left me sitting here, waiting for him! FOUR FUCKING TIMES! Like I don't have anything better to do with my life!"

"Vic – "

"No, stop defending him, Ruby! If he's off on another fucking bender, fine! I give up! I'll just head on over to Sheridan or some other town in Butt-Fuck Nowhere County and see if they're hiring. I DON'T NEED THIS SHIT!"

I was leaning over her desk, hands planted on the top of it, glaring at her. It wasn't her fault, I knew that, but who else was there to glare at? Not fucking Walt Longmire himself, that was for sure! Ruby would have to do.

She said my name one more time, but it was the snickering I heard, coming from the direction of the bull-pen that caught my attention. I straightened up and saw a young guy, a chubby young guy, staring at me. Laughing at me! The glare I sent him killed that laugh pretty quick and his face flushed a deep red.

"You see something funny, asshole?" I challenged him. Yeah, today, I wasn't dressed to the nines. I was barely dressed at all.

This morning, I'd gone out running. It was July. Hot. I was wearing a tank top, a ratty old pair of shorts, complete with a tear in the butt of them, mismatched socks and my sneakers. I had my hair pulled back in a braid, my iPod holstered in its armband, my headphones tucked down the front of my top.

I'd started off just running wherever. No particular destination. I'd been mad. Okay, FURIOUS at being stood up again by the high and mighty Sheriff Longmire. I was supposed to have met him AGAIN, yesterday afternoon. Apparently, the guy never did mornings. Obviously, afternoons weren't any better for him, either!

This morning, I'd been pissed off! Sean was out of town on business and what was I supposed to do? Just hang around the house, AGAIN? So, I'd gone for a run to let off some steam. It took far more effort to do that than it did to pace around the living room, cursing the mysterious Sheriff Longmire. 'Mysterious'. Yeah, more like washed-up, passed out, fuckin' loser Sheriff Longmire! My image of him hadn't been great to begin with but with each missed appointment it had degraded accordingly.

As I ran, I thought about him. Thought about the way he'd treated me, like I wasn't worth his time or effort. Thought about how fucking lucky he should've been that I was even considering lowering myself to be a fuckin' deputy in his piss-poor police force! Thought about how the least I wanted to do to him was punch him in his old, ugly drunken face and then maybe give him a good hard kick while he was down.

I hadn't even turned on my music. My anger with him was more than enough motivation to keep me running for days. It hadn't surprised me much to find that I'd run all the way in to town. Cruising along Main Street, I passed the Sheriff's office, glared at it and then stopped. Backtracked. Stood there on the sidewalk, hands on hips, glowering at the door, panting slightly. It wasn't the exercise that fucked up my breathing; it was the thought of this asshole's pure arrogance that made me pant with fury.

Without any real plan, I found myself bounding up the stairs and now, here I was, sweaty as hell, glaring at this example of Absaroka's finest. Obviously, by the look of him, donuts where not unheard of in this godforsaken place!

"Uh…uh…" he stammered. Did anyone around her speak without putting a million 'uhs' in front of every goddamned sentence? If I waited for him to spit out what he was trying to say, I'd be celebrating my fortieth birthday and that was still a few years away.

Yeah, this bozo wasn't even worth my time. I was about to turn away when another man came in to sight. Talk about a complete opposite!

This guy was young, but not as young as Chubby, who was slinking off in to the unseen corners of the bull-pen. This guy might have been closer to my age. This guy was swaggering straight for me, removing his ten-gallon hat as he sauntered along. I had to admit, he was definitely handsome and fuckin' built!

His uniform shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, clung to the leanness of the rest of his body, the cuffs of his shirt folded back precisely, exactly even with each other and his pants - jeans, actually, were so tight they looked painted on him which only helped to show off the muscles in his slim legs. I was shocked to see a metro-sexual here in Cowboyland! I think my mouth might actually have fallen open!

Nice, trim haircut, smooth, strong jaw and as he neared me, I saw the bluest eyes I'd ever seen, anywhere. Charm oozed off him in waves. He opened the gate that separated us and smiled. That's when the arrogance really hit me! He held out his hand, all fluid motion.

My mouth was closed tightly now, my hands back on my hips, curled in to tight fists. No way! This guy couldn't be Sheriff Longmire, could he? Way younger than I'd pictured him, much better looking, certainly not anywhere near drunk, except maybe on his own ego, but that swagger, that arrogance; it matched the profile I had of him in my head.

"Why, you sonofabitch," I started, right hand leaving my hip to point its first finger up in to his face. I heard Ruby say my name before I felt her grab my arm and try to wrestle my finger back down.

"I'm not sure what the problem is, ma'am, but maybe I can help you with it. Deputy Branch Connalley, at your service." He kept holding his hand out. As soon as he'd said 'deputy' I lost all interest in him. The term 'urban cowboy' did flit through my mind and made me smile, just a little. I knew it wasn't a pretty one.

"You're not the one I'm looking for," I snapped, not happy that ANYTHING had made me even feel like smiling in the mood I was in. Before I turned my back on him, I was sure I'd caught a look of disbelief in those bluey-blue eyes of his. He didn't like being rejected, that was for sure. Tough for him! I didn't like being dicked around with!

I gave my full attention to Ruby. Tried to reign in my temper for her sake, but it was a losing battle.

"You can tell that stupid prick boss of yours that I want my resume back! You can also tell him that as far as I'm concerned, HE IS THE BIGGEST ASSHOLE TO EVER WALK THE FACE OF THE GODDAMNED EARTH! AND WHILE YOU'RE AT IT, YOU CAN TELL HIM, FROM ME, TO GO FUCK HIMSELF SIX WAYS TO SUNDAY!"

''Vic – " and again with the hand on my arm, saying my name. I liked Ruby, I really did, but without getting a chance to personally give Sheriff Longmire my opinion of him, my only option was to leave the message with her. She liked the guy, it had become more than obvious and I felt for her. Didn't know about the rest of them, but it might have been fun working with her. I shook her hand off me and went for the door. I was just turning the knob when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Everything seemed so quiet all of a sudden. It felt like that eerie calm before a wicked storm.

"What's the problem here, Ruby?"

That voice. Rumbly and low, like thunder rolling across the skies.

"I tried to find that out, Walt," Metro began.

"Uh, Victoria Moretti is here to see you," Ruby cut in. She was so trying to sound normal and cheerful and failing miserably.

I stood there, with my back to all of it. I could feel eyes on me, running up and down my body and I just knew those eyes didn't belong to anyone but Sheriff Walt Longmire. I stood there, hand grasping the doorknob. All I had to do was turn it, the door would open and I'd be able to make my escape. After all this waiting to meet him, why was I so suddenly intent on escaping?

It was the feel of his eyes on me. I couldn't have felt it any deeper if he'd actually laid his hands upon me. And then there was that silence. Heavy. Pressing down on me. Like the biggest thunderhead in the universe had just entered the room and really, who the fuck would want to mess with something like THAT?

"I was actually just looking at your resume, Ms. Moretti," and the thunder rumbled around me again.

Okay, the time had come. If he was the thunder, then I'd be the lightning. He could take his stupid eyes, the way they felt, and still go fuck himself! I hadn't really expected to find him here. That's all it was. Nothing more. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders and turned to look right at him.

I was looking a little too low. Kind of ruined the aim of my glare. Up then, a little higher. I automatically changed my stance, as though bracing myself. Feet shoulder-width apart, hand on hips. I felt very much as though I were facing an adversary. I looked him over in that way.

He was a tall sonofabitch. Over six feet for sure. Lanky but tough looking. Older, like I knew he would be, but not as old as I'd thought. Maybe late forties, early fifties. It was obvious that he'd come in on his day off, of which he seemed to have many. That judgement was based firstly on his attire.

I started my inspection at his feet. Worn, dusty boots. Not your typical pointy-toed cowboy variety. Loose jeans, button-up fly. Nice belt; the buckle was impressive. Some kind of Native design it seemed, but hard to tell because his gun belt was blocking most of the view. Sidearm snug in its holster on the right, making him right handed. Cuffs on the left and what looked like a bone-handled knife beside them. Sure didn't see anything like THAT in Philly! Wondered what he used it for?

Up, over the gun belt. No protruding beer gut. Huh. Just a loose fitting, well-worn, slightly rumpled, sun-faded denim shirt, tucked in to his pants, but left mostly undone. Not quite back to the disco era, but undone enough that I could see his chest hair, light brown, maybe just a hint of a reddish tinge to it, but most definitely sprinkled with enough grey hairs to let me know I'd been right about his age range. Keep going up. Over and across his broad shoulders. A little stooped looking. Wasn't sure if that was a natural thing for him or maybe he was just tired. On to his face.

The overall appearance of it was of a man who spent most of his time outdoors. The sun had darkened whatever visible skin I'd seen with a tan that I'm sure held up even over the winter months. He had a nice, firm jaw, not square but slightly rounded. A good mouth, the right size for his face. No smile there. No hint of welcome at all. A nice, straight nose, again in proportion with the rest of his features. A good day's growth of whiskers, maybe two, under that nose and all along his jawline. Shaggy brows, not overly ridiculous; just manly. Lines on his forehead. Lines beside his eyes. Dark circles below them. Overall, it was a nice face. A quietly handsome face, even though it killed me to admit it, but it was also a tired looking face, an almost expressionless face but certainly not the face of a chronic alcoholic. Huh.

My next step should have been his eyes, but after 'feeling' them I wasn't sure if I was ready to look in them. Move on.

He had a fine head of hair. Certainly not regulation in any police force I'd ever had experience with though. A little too long, a little too wild. Yeah, second indication of his day off. Waves of that same light brown fading to red curled around his ears, down over his collar, fell across his forehead. His sideburns were a little shaggy, too, tinged with that same silver as his chest hairs.

I drew my gaze out, taking in his whole body once more. While I had my stance, he had his. Most of his weight seemed to be on his right leg, his left kind of kicked out just the slightest bit. His hands were on his hips and he seemed to lean forward a bit. Probably because of his height. Used to bending down a bit. Not a sign of the arrogance I'd accused him of. No puffed out chest, no head held high like that deputy of his. He looked more defeated than arrogant and that surprising fact made me look in to his eyes. Somewhere there had to be something about him that fit in to my imagined description of him.

His eyes were blue. Not as brilliant as that other guy's but striking just the same. Dark blue right now, almost the colour of sapphires. While I watched, they actually changed colour. Lighter now. While his face was expressionless, his eyes spoke volumes. Just what they were saying exactly, I didn't know. The overall impression I got of him was of a man who was tired, and not just physically. Not drunk, not hungover. Not full of himself, not haughty, just tired in a deep way…and sad.

I looked down. I didn't like the way his eyes were making me feel soft towards him. Whatever was going on with him, it didn't give him the right to treat me the way he had. There was no excuse for him pushing me aside and ignoring me. Whatever else he was, he was the Sheriff of Absaroka County and it was his job to take care of things. So, being the fiery, offended and offensive bitch I was, I returned my gaze to his, made sure it was cold and told him "about fuckin' time, asshole!"

He took that in by raising one eyebrow, running a hand along the side of his face, then down across his chin. He seemed to think for a moment, then went to the gate, pushed it open and held it that way. No apology. Just a simple, "Let's go over this in my office" and he held up my folder, used it to motion me ahead of him. Ruby patted my back, going for encouragement, I'm sure. I fixed my glare and strode past Mr. Metro, past the Sheriff.

"Don't you have something you should be workin' on there, Branch?" I heard him ask the younger guy. The tone of his quiet voice was not pleasant at all.

"Yeah, no kidding" the younger man replied insolently. "Someone's gotta do the reports around here," and he sauntered back to his desk. I watched the Sheriff follow him with his eyes. I saw a flash of something that looked like anger in them, but it was a cold anger. The kind that was usually the deadliest. From my new vantage point, I saw the chubby guy lick his lips nervously and then try to make himself as small as possible at his tiny desk.

This Sheriff, this Walt Longmire, had a voice like quiet thunder and it felt like the storm was about to break at any moment. I waited. Could feel everyone else waiting, but nothing more happened. Very slowly and with purpose, he surveyed his deputies one last time and then turned to focus on me. He placed a hand on the small of my back and gently pushed me.

"Straight down the hallway, through that open door," and I headed that way.

"You want a cup of coffee?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Okay then. Have a seat. I'll be right in."

I obeyed him. Without question. Without thinking twice about it. That wasn't like me, but I guess when you heard thunder speak, you just went along with it. It fuckin' bugged me, though, how I just did what he said to do. I was still furious with him, but there'd been something about the look in his eyes. I wouldn't say it scared me, but it sure did humble me and I wasn't the only one. For all his insolence, that metro guy had sure sat down fast enough at his desk and that poor other guy, he'd look like he'd just wanted to crawl away somewhere and hide.

Just as I was thinking about that, ThunderSpeaks himself came in to the room, closing the door behind him. I was alone with the storm. Time to show him my own storm. I watched him. He came in, a mug of coffee in one hand, my folder in the other. He didn't look at me. He seemed only interested in the folder's contents.

He moved with a certain slow grace, with a surety of his surroundings. He sat down without even looking and just kept reading. I sat across from him, one leg crossed over the other, top leg swinging up and down, fingers laced together, elbows resting on the armrests of the chair, all casual-like. I waited for him to say something, but the silence continued. If I wanted to, I could've stared at the top of his head, but instead, I looked around the room, trying to hold my impatience in check.

Wood, wood and more wood! Big old wooden desk between us, nice old wooden bookshelf over-flowing with nice old books, piles more of then stacked up beside the thing, big old wooden table off to my left and hey, look-ee there, a nice big old leather couch on my other side, underneath the window with its wooden blinds!

Wood walls, complete with the ever popular dead head of some kind of deer mounted on it, some plaques, wooden, of course and too far away to read, some pictures of landscapes, Indians, cowboys, all framed in wood, no surprise, a big old map of Wyoming on the wall, again framed in wood and two really nice old wall sconces, which I actually liked, just behind the Sheriff's desk.

Just slightly behind him and to his right was a closed door, the words 'Reading Room' painted on the pebbled glass in gold. Closer to me and still on the same side, another door, all wood and no letters. That was boring. My eyes went back to the other door. Just what the hell was a 'reading room?' Is that where he went to read all these damn books he had in here? Myself, I'd just flop down on that big old couch with a book, bask in the July sunshine that fell across it and read right there. Maybe that's how they passed the time here at the Sheriff's Department. I could get used to that!

I looked back at the man in front of me. He was leaning back a little now in his big old leather chair, still perusing my resume. I had the feeling he was deliberately making me wait. Well, fine. I'd wait. I got up and went to the couch. Plopped myself down on it. Would've put my feet up on the opposite armrest, but I was too short to reach it. This couch was obviously made for that big old prick over at the desk. I crossed my legs at the ankles and grabbed the book that lay open, face down on the back of the couch and began to read it.

_**Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes,**_

_**I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it **__**, **_

_**The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it. **_

_**The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless, **_

_**It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it, **_

_**I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked, **_

_**I am mad for it to be in contact with me.**_

After a few lines, I just had to check out the cover. 'The Song of Myself' by Walt Whitman. I wasn't much for poetry, but who hadn't heard of Walt Whitman? Back in the day, his day, he was considered to be quite scandalous. Racy, even. I turned the book back over and re-read the lines. Yeah, I could see where that description might have come from. The Sheriff read this stuff? While I was trying to wrap my head around that, he spoke.

"Alone far in the wilds and mountains I hunt, wandering amazed at my own lightness and glee. In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night, kindling a fire and broiling the fresh-kill'd game. Falling asleep on the gather'd leaves with my dog and gun by my side."

The quiet thunder rumbled away and I was left staring at him while he sat there, folder forgotten, all things forgotten by the look of it, as he stared off in to space, hands clasped loosely together on the top of his desk. The guy was either really deep or really disturbed. Profoundly intelligent or just plain insane. Who the hell memorized and then recited poetry in this day and age? No one I knew of! Song lyrics, yeah heard 'em all the time, over and over again, but poetry? I checked the cover again, quickly. Eighteen ninety-two poetry?

Okay, so I'd been wrong in my first imagined description of him. He wasn't an arrogant drunk. He was just stark raving looney! Just my luck! I thought I'd left the nutbars behind me back in Philly, but apparently, the Old West had a few of them, too.

I sat up. He seemed to come back from wherever he'd gone, blinked once and looked at me. This time, his eyes were bright blue.

"Didn't mean to interrupt you," was all he said. Nothing like 'what the hell do you think you're doing lying on my couch?' That's what I would've said.

"You actually read this stuff?" and I held up the book. "You know this stuff?"

"I know a lot of stuff. Song of Myself is actually just an excerpt from a much larger work, called Leaves of Grass. At the time it was published, it was criticized for being overtly sexual and profane."

"And do you find it overtly sexual and profane?" I asked. He smiled slightly and got that far-away look in his eyes again.

"I find it honest, I find it real and refreshing. I find it freeing and sensual and yes, I find it sexual in the bigger sense of the word."

"There's a bigger sense to sexual? I mean, isn't sex just sex?"

"Sex can be a lot of different things. For example, if I said to you what's a breath? Is it only the taking in of air? That would be the definition of the word, but is that all it is in your life? To take a breath, your first breath, your last breath. To hold your breath, release your breath. The word itself is simple, but the actions surrounding the word are complex and conjure up all kinds of feelings. To breathe in the scent of your lover, to breathe out a sigh of relief at her touch. To breath in the scent of grass just after a rain, to lay down on it, naked and feel each living blade on your flesh. Sexual. Sensual and so beyond the mere act of sex itself…"

Okay, I couldn't believe I was having this conversation with a guy I'd just met. A guy who could potentially become my boss, a guy who, well, who talked like thunder, but thought like silk. What the fuck was going on here?

"That's all nice and everything, but I'm here about a job if that's okay with you."

"Well, sometimes Life gives you more than you were looking for…or expecting."

There was some hidden meaning behind his words, but I was too flustered to think about it. At least he seemed to be back in the here and now and not lost out there in space somewhere. A genius or a nutbar? I'd heard the difference between the two was usually minimal and I'd seen it with my own eyes.

I went to get up. He motioned me to stay. He got up and began pacing around, back to reading my file.

"It says here that you're a ballistics expert."

"Top of my class," I answered back. I could handle this conversation.

"It also says you've had quite a bit of forensics experience and that you were in line for a promotion to detective in the vice squad."

He stopped his pacing and took on that stance of his, one eyebrow raised inquiringly as he looked at me.

"True," I told him, "but then my husband got this transfer here to Wyoming and I…uh, I wasn't about to let him go off without me, so I quit and came here."

"You're married? Huh. That's a hell of a sacrifice, I'd say. From what I've read in your file and the recommendations by your superior officers, you were on your way to the top. Out here, things don't work that way. Not here in Absaroka County. The best job I could give you would be as one of my deputies. The only thing after that is Sheriff and I've kinda got that covered, for now. Gotta be elected to the position anyway. With your qualifications, I can't see you being satisfied working here."

Was he dismissing me? After all the waiting I'd done, was he just going to push me out the door? Not without a fight!

I jumped to my feet.

"Look, it wasn't my idea to come here, but here is where I am! I've been a cop since the day I graduated high school and I don't know how to do anything else! I need a job! I can't sit at home all day doing nothing! If you have a position open, then I'm more than willing to take it!"

"Well…I did just lose a deputy not that long ago."

"In the line of duty?" I couldn't imagine how a cop could get killed out here on the job.

"He got kicked in the head by a horse when he was trying to break up a fight at the rodeo last year. Didn't kill him, but he's not quite right anymore, so I had to let him go. Full benefits and all, but the poor guy just won't ever be the same again. It's too bad, 'cause I liked him."

Wow! Kicked by a horse! I'd worked every day in Philly being shot at, getting beat up, almost run down, going head to head with tweaked out meth-heads and here, all you had to watch out for were the horses? I could do that, easy fuckin' peasy!

"Just give me the job then," I told him. "Let's just say I'm qualified and forget about the rest of it!"

"I'm not sure what your big city ideas are of law enforcement out here in the sticks. Come over here to the map and let me show you something before you jump right in."

"This" and he indicated the map with a sweep of one of his big hands, "is the state of Wyoming."

"Yeah," I huffed,"I got that! So?"

"This corner up here is Absaroka County, where we are. We patrol all of this. We keep the peace here. Right now the 'we' means me and my two deputies out there. All this land and just the three of us. Sometimes, we'll call up some back-up from Cumberland County over here, or from down in Powder River Junction down here," and I followed his finger along the map. The area was big, I got that. All the more reason for him to hire me.

"All this geography lesson is doing is proving that you need my help."

"This isn't the big city. We work when we have to. There's no such thing as normal days off. There's no real nine to five here. Sometimes we go days on end without sleeping, depending on what's going on. Sometimes, we get stuck out somewhere, like here, in the mountains, and don't make it back until the next day. Sometimes, you'll work two weeks straight if you have to and sometimes your phone's gonna ring at three in the morning and you better be up and out that door before the last ring fades away. This isn't what you're used to, Victoria Moretti, trust me. I know how it works in the big city of Philadelphia."

"Yeah, like you've been there!" I scoffed. Couldn't see it. "And please, don't call me Victoria. I go by Vic."

"Okay, then, Vic it is…and actually, I have been. Almost considered joining the PD myself there not so long ago in a purely advisory type of role."

That made me shut my mouth…for a minute. I stood looking up at him, trying to imagine this guy on the streets of Philly. Total no go on that one!

"What the hell would make you want to do THAT? It's almost as weird as me finding myself here. I don't even have to ask; I know you were born and raised her, just by looking at you, so what the hell would make you want to go to Philly?"

For a moment, he looked a little pained and then it was back to being the man without expressions.

"My daughter went to Law School in Philadelphia. Graduated top of her class in Civil Law. Got hired on by some big-shot firm, so I thought about heading out there…"

"Like your wife would enjoy being dragged along with you! Trust me, I know!"

There was a moment of silence. Awkward silence. He strode back to his desk and sat down. Looked down for a moment and then back at me.

"My wife is…dead. She passed away a little over a year ago…"

Yeah, trust me to put my foot in my mouth in such a big way! But really, how the fuck was I supposed to know about THAT?

I found myself sitting down in the chair I'd first occupied, directly across the desk from him.

"I'm sorry…I didn't know…"

"My daughter was worried about me. Wanted me to come out there, so I tried it. Checked out the PD, but I'm a bit of a hands-on kind of guy. Not much for the distance technology seems to put between me and the real world. Didn't like it so I came back home. Cady didn't trust me to take care of myself, so she followed me back and now she's here, working for a tiny firm, handling mortgages, wills, land transfers and shit like that. She deserves better than what she's got here…"

I had the feeling this guy had just broken some kind of code of silence. The words just seemed too raw, like he'd never said them before. Oh, well, we'd already talked about sex and breathing, might as well talk about THIS.

"If something happened to my mom, I'd head back to Philly to be there for my dad. It's what daughters do. Are there any other kids?"

He shook his head.

"Just her…" All this explained the sadness that hung around him. "You have any kids?" That came out of nowhere.

"No, I don't. Look, give me the job. Let me make your life a little easier. I can do this."

"I'm sure you can, but I'm still not sure it's the right thing for you…or your husband. What's he gonna say when you're working twelve, fourteen hour shifts? How's he gonna like it when you get snowed in somewhere and maybe not make it back for a day or two? What's he gonna do when you're basically on call twenty-four seven?"

"He's gone more than he's home! Right now, he's off in fuckin' Australia, working on some fuckin' deal or whatever it is that he does! He's not a factor, trust me!"

"Maybe that makes it even worse. When he is home, he's going to want you there with him. I can't guarantee that's going to be possible. In fact, I can tell you right now, the chances are slim to none."

He leaned back in his chair. He peered at me while he looked me over, one hand resting on the desk, the other worrying at the stubble under his nose and along his chin.

"Victori- Uh, Vic, I just don't see that working for me is going to be a good thing for you or your marriage."

His royal pronouncement.

I scooted up to the edge of the chair and leaned myself over the desk, my blood boiling.

"Well, Sheriff Longmire, I think you can just take that thought of yours and stuff it up your ass!"

Out came that deadly pointer finger again, right under his perfect nose.

"I WANT this job! I'd be GOOD at this job! I NEED this fucking job so I won't end up going fucking insane here in ButtFuck Nowhere! What my husband likes or doesn't like is none of your concern! That's between me and him, not YOU!"

"Okay, then…but what about the day you decide to have some kids? I don't normally hire women because of shit like that. It happens, especially by accident, and it causes havoc here in the department."

Was he being deliberately sexist? If this were Philly, I'd nail his ass to the wall with one call to my union rep! Somehow, I had the feeling that wouldn't work here. I think I was fighting with the union rep. Okay, so I was on my own! How dare he?

"I'm not going to get pregnant! Babies aren't in my future!. My husband…Sean..he doesn't…WE don't want kids! End of FUCKING STORY!"

Yeah, not even on the job and I was lying to my potential boss. HE didn't need to know that, though…

"It happens, Vic. Trust me, I know," and what the hell did that mean? Had he tried out a woman deputy before? Is this where all this shit was coming from.

"We really don't want kids. It's all taken care of so YOU trust ME! If it happens, which it won't, I will swear right here and now to quit on the spot and never darken you fuckin' door again, okay?"

He just sat there, thinking about it. Just sat there looking me up and down.

"Okay…but you are kinda small….You're going to be out there on your own more times than not. Sure, you'll have a gun, but sometimes there's not always a chance to use it. We don't have fancy things out here like Tasers and such…What are you gonna do if you have to wrestle down some big old boy with nothing but your hands?"

He thought he had me; he really fucking did! Ahh, Jesus, was I really going to have to do this? I guess it was a good thing I wasn't wearing a nice skirt like I had that day I'd first stopped by here.

I went to the office door. Yanked it open. Scanned the bullpen.

"Hey, Metro, get in here!" I hollered. The urban cowboy looked around. Pointed at himself and gave me an inquiring look.

"Ya, YOU!"

He sauntered on down the hallway, all charming smile. Yeah, I think I was going to enjoy this after all. The Sheriff was still sitting at his desk, still stroking his whiskers, but I caught a faint hint of a lift around the corners of his mouth.

"Just what can I do for you, ma'am?" Metro asked.

"Just stand there. Put your hand out like you want to shake mine and take a few steps towards me."

Metro looked to the Sheriff. The Sheriff did his best to smooth down the corners of his mouth, while making it look like he was just innocently going about playing with his whiskers. That was some strange habit he had!

"Just, uh, do what she says, Branch…" and those blue eyes were twinkling, I swear. Not Metro's eyes, though. He was frowning, not understanding.

"Just do it. Put your hand out, walk towards me like we're gonna say howdy to each other."

The poor guy, he did it and the next thing he knew, he was on the floor, face down. I had his hands behind his back, putting all my weight on to the knee I was digging in to his kidneys with while the rest of me straddled his ass. I glared at the Sheriff.

"Not bad," was all he said as he peered down over the side of his desk. Oh, there was no hiding that little grin of his. I eased off and Metro or Branch (what the hell kind of name was THAT?) jumped to his feet and came right up to me, all in my face.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?" he yelled at me. I met him head-on, just daring him to make me take him down again. Sure it had been a dirty trick on my part the first time around, but if he wanted to go again, I'd be all in on that!

The Sheriff was on his feet, coming between us.

"Settle down, Branch. I needed Vic here to show me she could handle herself against a big strong guy like you! No harm done, right?"…and oh, this Walt guy was enjoying this! It crossed my mind that he'd set me up. Branch, too. Nah, he couldn't have known what I was thinking about…could he? It was obvious that Branch wasn't one of his fave people on the earth, but there's no way in the world he could've known this was going to happen. I told myself that, but still, I wondered.

"You could've warned me!" He spat at the Sheriff. He glared at me.

"I needed to see if she could do it. Didn't want you to have your defences up, not this time around, anyway." Yeah, he wasn't stroking his whiskers now. He was totally covering his mouth to hide his smile.

"I need that report on Dirk Jenkins missing sheep, asap, so go on back to your desk and get it for me. Thanks for being a good sport about all this."

Oh, my God! Even I wanted to laugh. Branch, on the other hand, did not!

"You think you're so damn funny, Walt. Mark my words, one day, I'm gonna be laughing at you!"

"One day, maybe, but today's not that day, Branch."

Off he went.

"So?" I asked, arms folded across my chest, one hip cocked, head tilted to the side while I waited for his response.

"Not bad. Impressive I might even say…"

"And?"

"What did you call Branch?"

"Metro, as in metrosexual." No comprehension. "That's what you call a guy who looks more put together than most women. Y'know, perfect hair, perfect face, perfect teeth, perfect clothes. Perfect nails, too and they like to preen around the place…"

"Metro…" He repeated the word, like he was trying out some foreign phrase.

"Yeah, that's the way you say it….but moving right along, do I get the job or not?"

Back he went to sit down again. Back to the file. Back to playing with his whiskers and looking me over.

"I gotta think it over," he drawled.

"Y'know what? GO FUCK YOURSELF!" I was so done with this bullshit. The guy was a fuckin' nutbar, no doubt about it. I stormed to the door.

"You're not done here, Vic."

"I AM!"

"No, you're not. You just told me to go fuck myself, but you forgot to add the 'six ways to Sunday' to the end of that! A good cop should always be clear and a good boss always hears EVERYTHING!"

"You are such a fucking asshole!"

"Ya, I heard that one, too. The biggest one to ever walk the face of this goddamned earth, I believe your exact words were, but thanks. Nothin' like hearing it twice in the same day. I'll think about giving you the job, really think about it and I'll call you tomorrow morning, I swear."

"You just do that, Sheriff." I toned down my anger. That's what he was expecting. It's all I'd shown him. Time to mix things up a bit. I went to the desk, extended my hand. He rose, towering above me, and took my hand in his. More like swallowed the poor thing in his huge paw.

"It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Sheriff Longmire" and I plastered the cheesiest smile in the world on my face

"You be sure to call me tomorrow" and I actually batted my eyes at him before pulling my hand from his and dropping that smile.

"That way I can tell you to go fuck yourself over the phone!" He actually laughed as I turned on my heel. I could see the two guys in the bull-pen, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. I guess laughing wasn't one of the Sheriff's stronger points.

"I'll be sure to do that, Vic. Wouldn't want to miss that and yeah, it's been something meeting YOU," he chuckled.

I strutted my stuff all the way to the door, swinging those hips. Putting on the Philly

"Yo, that's right, you just keep checkin' out my legs and my ass, buddy," and I actually could feel him doing just that. "You coulda been lookin' at this every day. Your loss…" His quiet laugh followed me out the door.

"Met - uh, _Branch_, sorry about that. Black belt, Tae Kwon Do. Should've warned you, I guess…and you,"I grabbed the younger guy and gave him a kiss. Might as well make a totally grand exit.

"You are just waay too cute!"

Ruby was right there, too. Seems the Sheriff's laughter drew everyone around. I knew he'd moved in to the doorway of his office. I could feel him there.

"Ruby, it honestly was a pleasure to meet you." I gave her a huge hug.

"He'll call, Vic, I know he will."

"He'll do what he wants, I think….and so will I. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow and maybe I won't, but hey, let's do coffee this Friday." I was fairly confident that I'd just blown any hope of working here. Oh, well!

I stopped dead in my tracks. I took a glance behind me, and there he was, leaning in the doorway, just like I knew he'd be.

"Honestly, Sheriff, stop staring at my ass!" and then I was gone, bounding back down the stairway, running back down Main Street towards home. Yeah, might as well blow it big time. I knew if I looked up at the windows in the office, I'd find myself being looked down upon. I don't know what had possessed me at the end there to be so…so sassy and I just wanted to get out of there. Didn't want to know who was staring down at me, but sorta kinda knew anyway.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

So, that was how I met Sheriff Walt Longmire and how it had all gone down between us back then. He did end up calling me the next day. I did tell him to go fuck himself, just so he knew he'd dialed the right number and that afternoon, I officially became Deputy Moretti, Absaroka County Sheriff's Department.

It was the start of a journey I never could've imagined. So much had happened and changed in those four years, not just around me, but to me.

And here I was now, sharing Walt's bed. Lazing in the after-glow of the most wonderful night of my life. Lounging in the feeling of being so very well sexually satisfied, my body sore all over but deliciously so. Four years after walking through his office door, I was laying here beside him, once more on my other side, gazing at his sleeping face…and knowing in my heart, my body and my soul that I never wanted to leave him, this place, this bed. This time.

So soft and still. So warm and beautiful. If I could only hang on to this forever, but already the voices in my head where starting to whisper. I wouldn't listen to them. I'd just lay here, lovingly studying the face of the man next to me. I'd just lay here and look at him as though it was the last time I'd ever be able to do so…

I brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. I moved closer, my head next to his on the same pillow. I kissed him softly on his whiskery cheek. I'd heard him last night. I'd heard him say he loved me…

I pressed my lips as soft as feathers against his.

"I love you, too…" and the tears came, as softly and quietly as my words had. I cried because I was longing to tell him and I knew, that for his own sake, I'd probably never do it while he was awake…


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:**

**Some of the aftermath of Vic's fight with Walt, which won't make sense unless you've already read that last chapter of Happy New Year, Walt. Yes, I do have a sneaky way of getting folks to read ALL my stories! LOL**

** After a night of wild love-making, it's come down to this? We all know that things don't always go the way we expect them to...but here, in MY world, there will ALWAYS be hope for Vic and Walt, no matter how dark it might seem at the moment. Hope you all enjoy it...and rest assured, I'll NEVER be done with these two! Here's to #WICkedWednesday every day of the week!:)**

**Chapter 3**

"Stupid, dumb fuck!"

I couldn't stop saying it. I couldn't stop seeing him standing there, calmly handing over my truck keys. Couldn't believe he just let me storm out!

Couldn't believe I'd tromped outside, getting snow in my boots. Couldn't believe I'd forgotten to put my socks on and now my Goddamned feet were soaking wet and cold, no matter how high I turned up the heat!

Not that it made much difference. It was cold as hell outside and I hadn't been in the mood to let the truck warm up before taking off. All I wanted to do was get away from him as fast as possible and damn it all to hell, I'd had to get out and make a half-assed attempt to brush the snow off the windshield with my arm and one more fucking time, I ended up with snow in my boots!

"Stupid, dumb fuck!"

It was all his fault! Everything! The fact that my feet were freezing, the fact that I could barely see where I was going, the fact the I didn't even give a shit about THAT fact – and the fact that I was so pissed off it hardly mattered that I couldn't see much in front of me, except a blazing shade of pulsating red! It could've been a clear summer day and that's all I would've seen in front of me.

That fucking, stupid sonofabitch!

I hated him!

I hated him even more when I pulled up at my place, got out of the truck, slammed the door shut and then ended up on my ass after slipping on some Goddamned ice buried under the fucking snow in my parking stall.

Fuck me!" I yelled, laying there while big, fluffy flakes drifted down from the stormy grey sky above me. Now, I had snow down my pants!

For a moment, I wanted to cry…but I didn't. I wouldn't!

"Fuck_ you_, Walt!" I growled instead and without much grace, I managed to get to my feet. The town was creepy quiet this fine New Year's morning. So much better to know at least there'd been no one around to see me land on my ass. The whole Goddamned place was probably hungover, still drunk or passed out!

"Stupid dumb fuck!"

I was pretty sure I was still talking about Walt.

I stormed in to my apartment, slamming the door behind me. I threw my truck keys across the kitchen counter, kicked off my boots and threw my coat across the room. I did it all while cursing and ranting under my breath.

How dare he? Who the hell did he think he was, talking to me like that? What the fuck gave him the right to tell me how I felt or didn't feel? And just where the hell did he get off telling me he loved me? Bad enough that he'd said I loved him! More than bad enough, but for him to actually say it to me? What the fuck?

Well, none of it mattered now, did it? I might've loved him, but I sure as hell didn't now! I hated him! I fucking hated him! Him and his ultimatum! Him and his 'my way or the highway' attitude! Him and his – his stupid, dumb "I love you" bullshit!

Did he honestly think I needed to hear that just because we'd had sex? Was he so fucking old-fashioned that he figured it was the only thing to say afterwards? Was he so fucking 'honourable' that he couldn't just get layed without getting all sentimental about it? Was he honestly so noble that he couldn't get fucked without making a big deal about it?

Jesus Christ!

Pacing back and forth, my hands clenched so tightly in to fists that my short nails were digging in to my palms. Pacing. Furious! Offended!

Other thoughts wanted to creep in. Stupid thoughts that felt like guilt. Contradictory thoughts along the lines of my wanting him to say he loved me. How I whispered that I loved him before he woke up, how I'd heard him say those words to me when he'd taken me to his bed. How they thrilled me and at the same time, chilled me until he straddled me and filled me with his warmth…Looking up at him in that moment, the room bathed in firelight, it was enough that we were finally together and enjoying each other.

Touching, kissing, with nothing between us. Grasping and gasping and yes, okay, _loving_ each other and that was all fine and more than dandy, just as long as it was our bodies speaking those words. My body had been his to do with as he pleased, just as his had been mine and oh, how we'd pleased each other!

I'd known he wouldn't disappoint me. I'd known that fire in his eyes came from somewhere wonderful inside of him and when he'd set it loose, I couldn't have done anything else but respond in kind to it.

He'd been everything I'd always dreamed he would be! He'd been hungry, eager, willing and Christ Almighty, he'd been insatiable!

Oh, just thinking about last night made me weak, made me want him again! Made me wish that instead of taking my keys from him, I'd taken something else in my hand and made him forget all about his stupid talk of love and ultimatums…

But doing that hadn't been much of an option, especially after he threw Ed in my face and made it sound like I was just some kind of good-time party girl!

"Asshole!"

I grabbed the closest thing to hand and threw it across the room. So much for my poor little plant…

I stood there, breathing hard. I stared at the dent in the wall, the dirt on the floor, the broken pieces of clay that littered my living room.

How dare he? How could he be so cruel to go_ there_? Oh, I knew he could be a prick; I'd seen it countless times, but never, ever directed at me, not so personally anyway! That hurt! That really, really hurt me and yet, there'd been a moment when I could've forgotten even that if he'd only just taken me back to his bed…

…and now, I was so glad he hadn't! Now, all I wanted to do was find a way to erase every touch, every kiss, every bite and mark he'd given me from every inch of my body and curse him to hell while I did it! Hating him seemed so much easier than loving him at the moment! I just had to ignore that stupid tugging on my stupid heart! It meant nothing, just as Walt had said, even if we weren't quite talking about the same things. He had his perception of events and I had mine! Too bad for him that in my not so humble opinion, I was right and he was wrong! Deluded! In denial, the way he said I was!

I stopped in front of the living room window, watching the snow come down. Got lost in its hypnotizing effect and let the idea of denial sneak past my anger and hurt.

Did I love him?

In the pre-dawn darkness, lying sated and safely beside him, I had. Watching him sleep, looking so relaxed for the first time in such a long time, feeling the heat of his body next to mine, I'd felt a sense of home and belonging.

Listening to his steady, deep breathing, knowing that he was as vulnerable as I'd ever seen him, being aware of just how much he trusted me to finally let down his guard and _be_ with me, I couldn't help but realize I'd done the same thing. Trusted him. Let him in and I couldn't stop myself from leaning over him, kissing his forehead and whispering to him "I love you, too."

It wasn't something I said lightly. Wasn't something I'd ever said, except once in my life, to Sean…but it was something I'd felt before, even for Ed…At least I'd been smart enough never to say it to him, because, in the end, what had been between Ed and I really hadn't been about love.

It had been about excitement, danger, taking chances and feeling alive. It had totally been about the sex, the sneaking around, the risk and the thrill of being caught and it had been fun, until I found out that he was married…

So, what did I know about love?

I knew enough not to declare it out loud. I knew enough not to trust it. I'd loved Sean, hadn't I? I'd married him and been happy with him, but then again, I'd clung to him, taken him in to my life as a way to move on and move away from a past so tangled that it threatened to snare me and keep me back there.

And the love had faded. Become jaded and who's fault had that been?

I wanted to say it was Walt's fault, but that wasn't true. It was me, falling in to old patterns. Falling for someone I worked with every day. Falling for someone, who, unlike Sean, was a challenge.

Sean had been more than ready to sweep me off my feet right from the start. Maybe a little too ready, but I'd gone with it, gone with him. Had married him and let him carry me off to Wyoming. Had he really just been my way to escape Philly and all the bad memories? A way to save my life? Would Ed have killed me for the things I'd done? He'd certainly threatened me enough and was it really about turning him in or breaking it off with him?

The way he'd come after me, even here to Wyoming, made me believe it was more about the break-up than what had happened to him through his own choices. He hadn't made any secret about still wanting me, nor about wanting to ruin me, the way he felt I ruined him.

And poor Sean, caught in the middle of all that. And Walt, being dragged in to it. Poor me, having to tell him all about it when I found I couldn't handle it alone. My past had come back to haunt and torment all of us until that night at Chance's place.

Walt and Ed working together to save me and Sean. Sean, seeing just how much I'd lied to him when I told him there was nothing between Walt and I. Even Ed had seen it and when I made him stop the car beside the Bronco, I saw the truth of my actions mirrored in both their eyes. I was choosing Walt over both of them!

Choosing Walt over my husband and my psychotic ex-lover…

Ed had had the grace to know he couldn't compete. Sean had wanted to try, like a little boy who knows he's not going to get what he wants, but pouting just the same.

I still couldn't really explain what happened that night. I only knew that once we'd been locked in that bunker, after we'd been beat, Chance wasn't going to let me and Sean live. We'd seen him. He'd beaten an officer of the law and her 'partner' as Chance was so sure Sean was to me. As far as he was concerned, he had two cops hidden away and there was only ONE way it was going to end!

Trying to stay conscious had taken every ounce of strength I had, trying not to puke my guts out had proved impossible and Death seemed only moments away…

…but then Sean had grudgingly confessed to calling Walt and I'd felt an absurd hope. I'd grasped on to it, the way I'd grasped Sean's face between my shaking hands. Being killed was an occupational hazard for any cop, but not something a white-collar worker like Sean would ever have expected or contemplated. It was my fault he was with me, my fault he was going to die beside me and if only I hadn't been such a bitch on our trip! If only my mind hadn't been on Walt instead of my husband, if only I could've just enjoyed the thought of going away with Sean, then maybe we wouldn't have gone off the road, wrecked the car. If only we'd made it to Jackson…

Instead, I'd argued with him, Distracted him. Left him alone while I went to get help. Walked in to Chance's compound like a lamb going to the slaughter and maybe, just maybe, I could've handled it better if it had just involved me. Then, Chance's goons had brought Sean in and I still wasn't sure what had been worse – the beatings we'd both taken, knowing I couldn't stop them from hurting Sean or the guilt I felt when relief flooded me to hear Walt was looking for us.

I could still hear myself telling Sean it was going to be okay, that Walt would save us. Could still feel the smile that I'd worn. I'd gotten Sean in to this with no way out. Death had been the only outcome I'd been able to see and then I found out about Walt and it had seemed like a brilliant light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Had a sense of elation filled me just because I wasn't going to be the cause of Sean's death or had I only wanted Walt to appear to save _me_, to see him again?

There hadn't been time to ponder any of that. Just as my hopes soared, I heard a gunshot. Fear had pierced through me like an icy spear somewhere in the vicinity of my rapidly beating heart and it seemed only moments had passed before the trap door above us opened and a body bag fell to the floor with a horrible, soft thud….

Fuck, I couldn't think about that! I couldn't hear that sound in my head without feeling that same terror, that same insane panic that had filled me. I'd been positive it was Walt in there, positive he was dead and all because of me!

Dead! Dead and gone and I'd never, ever see him again! But I had to! I'd scrabbled over to that body bag, dizziness threatening to take me in to oblivion. I'd yanked at the zipper. It had caught and I'd lost my mind then. I remembered screaming and wrestling with the zipper until it came loose. I remembered being ready and not ready to see Walt's dead face. I'd been insane with grief and despair.

Then, I'd been hit with relief like the force of being hit by a ten tonne truck going one hundred miles an hour, slamming in to me. It wasn't Walt!

Relief quickly became horror when I glanced at Sean and saw in that moment that he knew my feelings for Walt were deeper and different than my feelings for him. Instinct and pity made me try my hardest to cover up what I'd let out, but later, knowing Walt's life was still in jeopardy, I just couldn't leave him. Couldn't just go on home with Sean and hope for the best.

What had pulled at me then, what emotions had made me go back to him, I still couldn't or wouldn't define, but whatever the motivation, I'd cast one long last look at Sean and knew it was the end of us, just as Ed had looked at me and known the same thing. Tears of remorse and bitter truth had fallen from my eyes, but I'd still left, run to the Bronco even though I could barely stand upright and gone off after Walt…

…and what did that say? Was Walt right? Did I love him?

What did I know about love?

How could someone like me, who guarded their heart at all costs, know anything about love? I'd wanted it, longed for it, had gone looking for it, but never really expected to find it. I didn't deserve it. I wasn't worthy of it…

…and how could I honestly believe that someone like Walt could be sincere when he said those words to me? Someone who'd almost lost himself mourning the loss of his wife. Someone that was prepared to go to extreme lengths to avenge her. Someone willing to throw away everything to find his own kind of justice for her…

Even if I did love Walt, which I wasn't ready to admit to, what chance did I have when it came to competing with what he'd felt for Martha? I was nothing but a street-wise, low-rent woman compared to the paragon of virtue and decency that she'd been.

They still talked about her in this piss-pot town, with reverence and Walt's devotion to her was the standard by which all other relationships around here were measured against. Sure, everyone had cheered us on at the bonfire last night, but then again, everyone had been at least ten good sheets in to the wind, too, so what did that mean?

Come the sober light of this new day, things could and probably would change and it wouldn't surprise me at all to find people looking at me like I'd broken the sanctity of a church and crapped on the alter, Walt being the church and his love for Martha the alter of sacrifice and devotion.

Love him? I'd been a fool to let those whispered words of his get to me. Believe that he loved me? More fool me. Fuck his brains out? Yeah, I could do that and I wanted to, even still…

…but I was better off hating him. Better off putting what I thought I felt for him down to the most traumatic circumstances of my life. Better to believe that I was still suffering from some kind of hero-worship for him. Better to think I'd thrown away my marriage in the heat of the moment or the throes of one hell of a concussion. Better to think I'd been out of my mind at the time and still was where Walt was concerned.

And honest to God, it really wasn't that far from the truth. Just thinking about what happened at Chance's place still got to me, still made me shake and want to cry. Still gave me nightmares after all this time…

…and oh, my God, it was so fucking cold in my apartment!

I'd already had a shower, but this time, I needed one! I needed to wash away every trace of Walt from my body, needed to try and cleanse my mind of memories, needed to watch it all just swirl down the drain and let it go. Every damn thing was over! Slam that fucking door shut, lock it and throw away the key!

Everything that had happened since that night at Chance's was behind me! With enough inner talk, even what had happened last night with Walt would be behind me. He wanted me to make a decision? Well, I'd fuckin' make one and then, even the memory of his hands on my body, his kisses all over me, his warmth and hardness filling me beyond compare would all be behind me!

"Love him?" I thought as I resumed my angry pacing. No, I fucking hated him and that's the way it had to be, for both our sakes. He didn't know what he was saying and I didn't know what I was doing. The heat of the moment and that's all it had been.

What I needed now, what I wanted, was the heat of a nice, cleansing shower and to stay strong while I watched it all go down the drain…

That, and a nice cold beer to help with the process, maybe ease the shaking.

I grabbed one from the fridge and headed for the bathroom. I thought about how damn fortuitous it had been that I'd found that tea box Walt had kept Martha's ashes in while making him breakfast. How I'd opened it and found a note from her to him, telling him how much she loved him. How, if I hadn't been reminded of her and what they felt for each other, I might just have believed him when he tried reiterating his declaration of love for me after coming back inside from taking care of his horse. Without seeing it, without being reminded of her and then what he'd been prepared to do for her long after her death, I was spared making a fool of myself by welcoming it and saying it back to him. Whether I did love him or not didn't matter. It never would…

"Stupid, dumb FUCK!"

And maybe this time, I wasn't talking entirely about Walt…


	4. Chapter 4 HNYVic

**Author's note: **

**Love. A beautiful thing, most times. What most of us strive for. To hear someone say 'I love you' opens up all kinds of flood-gates in our hearts. In Vic's case, it opens up something she's not quite ready to deal with...**

**Chapter 4 - Happy New Year, Vic**

I don't know why I did it.

I was on my way to the shower – I honestly was. Stopped off in my bedroom to grab some clean underwear and next thing you know, my unmade bed is calling to me. Sure, sit down a minute. Drink my beer. That's all I intended to do and then the beer was gone and I was horizontal, snuggled under my blankets.

Must've fallen asleep. Didn't know I could do that when I was so damn angry, but I guess I was wrong. Now, here I am, in that hazy twilight place, somewhere between passed out hard and awake and aware.

My intentions were to scrub away every trace of Walter Longmire's touch on my body. Every damn place he'd set his hands and his lips and pretend none of it had ever happened. The quick shower I'd taken at his place hadn't been like that.

I'd revelled in the remembrance of his touches, his kisses, the breath-taking feel of his man's naked body against all my naked female glory. I'd sought out every mark he'd left on me and had felt myself almost giddy with delight and overcome with desire for him. I'd been weak in the knees at the thought of all we'd done to each other...

...and now, in this muddled place, I was overcome again.

I could feel him beside me, his hands on my body. I could feel the heat of his presence and his kisses. I could feel his warm breath against my skin and that out of control drive to be closer and closer to him. To be a part of him. To make him a part of me. I could feel him inside of me and all around me...

Unlike earlier this morning, though, the feelings made me...sad. The wanting him made me feel powerless and defenseless. As angry as I was with him for getting all lovey-dovey with me, I couldn't help but realize I might never feel his touch like that ever again. I felt weak all over again, but not in the same way.

Things had changed.

Oh, I knew they would once we crossed that line, but I hadn't expected them to change like this! I'd heard him say he loved me that first time, that breathless, heart-stopping time and in the absolute stillness of the morning, while he lay sleeping, I'd whispered it back to him. I'd meant it. I'd been dying to say it for the longest time, but I'd been afraid to say it out loud to him.

He scared me. My feelings for him scared me. My absolute weakness where he was concerned scared me and as if that wasn't bad enough, facing the ghost of Martha later on while he went to feed his damn horse only served to remind me that I was a fool to think he honestly ever could really love me.

He might say it, but he'd never be able to truly mean it – not the way I wanted him to mean it!

It wasn't even really his fault. He'd had his 'great love' with her and I'd never met mine until I met him. He was too late for me and I'd never be enough for him, no matter what he said.

So, it hurt to lay here, unable to really rouse myself, unable to really mean I hated him. I wanted to. I could yell it out a million times, but the truth was all around me like the cocoon of blankets I'd wrapped myself in. I loved him! I loved him and I wanted him and I was almost willing to let myself become second-best to him. I wanted to be stronger than that and I wanted to cry...

When I felt a tear slip from my eye, that was enough to get me back to the land of the living.

I threw off the blankets and jumped to my feet.

I cursed myself for being weak and I cursed Walt and his damn declaration! I cursed him and his ultimatum! I cursed him just for being alive and I cursed myself for letting him get to me, for letting myself fall for him, for letting myself be carried away with my passion for him and I cursed the Universe in general for bringing me to this place, for leading me to this man, for foolishly thinking there might just be a happy ending for me...

...and then I cursed myself again for thinking I needed a happy ending in the first place!

I thought about tomorrow and going in to work. I thought about seeing him in the office and what? Act like nothing had happened between us? That would've been hard enough if things had ended up just swell between us, but with things the way they were, how the hell was I supposed to face him and act like it was all okay?

I couldn't do it!

I wasn't sure if I'd slug him or break down and hug him. I wasn't sure if just the sound of his voice saying 'good morning' would bring me to my knees or make me bring him to his. I couldn't trust myself around him. What I wanted was to show him that what happened didn't matter – I'd deal with it better than he would – but I was afraid that it wouldn't go that way at all and I just couldn't deal with that!

I had to go. I had to get away. I couldn't face him. I couldn't face 'us'. I couldn't take the chance that he'd see he was right about me, that I loved him even when I didn't want to. I had to do something to change all this, to make him wrong about me, to make him question why he ever thought he could love me. I had to show him that I wasn't going to be second-best to him. Had to show him that I didn't need him or want him.

Storming out of his cabin wasn't good enough. It wasn't far enough. It wasn't final enough!

I thought these thoughts while the rest of me went about changing and shoving clothes in to a duffel bag. I hardly even comprehended what I was doing until I found myself standing in front of the door to my apartment, truck keys in one hand, duffel bag in the other. Acting without much thought, going on instinct – and perhaps not the best instincts. They were fear-based while I tried to tell myself they were me just taking a stand.

Right, wrong, whatever! I only knew I couldn't face Walt tomorrow. Hell, I could barely convince myself that I'd make it through today without caving in and calling him, maybe even suffer another moment of desire-filled weakness and actually going back out to the cabin to see him, so I had to go. Had to put some distance between us...

...and the shitty thing was, I didn't have any idea as to where I would go or how I'd get there. For one brief, panicked, insane moment, I thought about going home. Back to Philly. I could just leave the truck at the airport and fly away, but, number one, Walt would think of that and number two, it was just plain insane! I could just hear my mother saying she'd told me so, that she knew I'd' never last in Wyoming and then I'd have to hear her tell me I must've done something wrong AGAIN to make Sean leave me. Nope, going home was not an option!

I stood in front of the door and took a deep breath and then another. There had to be a way out of here - and yes, there was!

I smiled, not so much with joy but more with satisfaction. First, I had to take off my Sheriff's Department jacket. Wearing it was like breathing; it came automatically. I exchanged it for a dark-coloured down parka and slung it over my duffel bag. Made sure I had my gun and my badge, took one last look around my apartment and opened the door.

I was on my way. I was leaving. And just like every other 'leaving' I'd done, it felt right at the time. I climbed in to the truck and headed down the street. It didn't take long to get where I was going.

It was still early when I reached my destination. I grabbed my duffel bag but left my gun and badge on the front seat before heading up the walkway and proceeding to bang on the door of a small house. Felt like I banged forever before Ferg opened up to look at me while trying to focus. He was a rumpled mess.

"What the hell are you doing here, Vic? Jeez, it's barely morning!"

"Whatever, Ferg...Look, I need your car."

"What for?"

"No questions. Just give me your keys and I'll give you mine."

"Like you just goin' to the store or something?"

"I'm taking a little trip."

"A trip? Where? How long?"

"None of your business and I don't know. Look, just let me use your car, no questions asked and you can have my truck. Sounds like a deal to me."

"I don't ...I barely...what?"

"Focus, Ferg! C'mon, now...I know you always wanted the Charger, but hey, my truck beats your car any day, so what do ya say?"

"I say you're nuts, Vic! Waking me up and asking stupid questions..."

"You're the one asking. I'm suggesting...strongly. In fact, I might just be ordering and in about one damn minute, I'm gonna be commandeering."

"Is it really important, Vic?"

"Yes," I told him, becoming serious, "it is. I'm...I have to leave, Ferg."

That seemed to wake him up a little.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked, all concern.

I could only nod, biting my lip to keep myself from telling him things he probably wouldn't want to hear and I really didn't want to say, but I'd grown more than fond of Ferg and realizing I might be seeing him for the last time was getting to me. I had to go before the realization of leaving it all behind made me change my mind.

"Please, Ferg..."

I felt the tears in my eyes. He looked at me a moment, went to speak and then left only long enough to get his keys and present them to me.

"Vic...If there's anything - "

I couldn't let him go on.

"When I get where I'm going, I'll let you know, Ferg. I'll find a way to get your car back to you, I promise."

"I don't care about the car, Vic...C'mon inside. Tell me what's going on. Maybe I can help..."

"I...I can't, Ferg. I have to go."

On impulse, I hugged him, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and threw my keys at him while I ran to his car.

Lucky for me, he had a carport and I didn't need to waste time brushing snow off the thing. I jumped in, started it up and backed out without looking at him. I couldn't afford to. I had to go before I started to think too much about just what it was I was leaving behind.

Because the engine was cold and the day even colder, the windshield started to fog up. I was essentially driving blind, but it seemed better that way. Totally dangerous, so as soon as I was around the corner from Ferg's place, I pulled over and let the car warm up enough to clear the fog. Seemed like it took forever.

While I waited, I thought about where it was I was going to go. Not East. That direction led to 'home'. Not South, either. I had no inclination to go that way. West, maybe...but then again, going West from Philly had landed me here.

North. I'd head North. Through Montana, all the way. I'd bitched so much about that particular state, I was sure Walt wouldn't think to look for me there. It still wasn't far enough away, though...

I pawed through my belongings and sure enough, there was my I.D. It was a new thing in the Absaroka Sheriff's Department, kind of like those cool FBI wallet deals that they were constantly flipping open on the TV shows and not something I ever used on a day to day basis while on the job.

I'd tucked it away in the lid of my make-up case, of all places and sure enough, it was still there.

Canada.

I'd head for Canada. It wasn't a passport – didn't own one of those – but it identified me as an Officer of the Law and I felt sure it would be enough, along with a good story, to get me across the border. No-one would look for me there!

I'd get lost in the Great White North and probably freeze my ass off if the stories were true, but I'd be gone, away, out of this mess, not worried about running in to anyone who might know me. I'd be able to breath, to think, to basically get my shit together and buy myself some time to decide where exactly I wanted to eventually end up.

The car was toasty now, the windshield clear and before long, Wyoming was behind me. The blizzard in front of me, the snow beneath me, the ache in my traitor heart – nothing was going to stop me from leaving Walt behind me! It was the dawn of a new year and the dawn of a new me.

I drove and drove and drove. Halfway through Montana, the snow let up and somewhere around Deer Lake, I thought about pulling over and maybe grabbing a room for what remained of the day, but decided I still wasn't far enough away from Walt.

What if Ferg had already called him to tell him what was up? I'd asked him not to, but I wasn't going to stake my life on the hope that he wouldn't. Walt was sharp, too sharp sometimes and it might not take him too long to exhaust other possible escape routes I might take, so I just kept on driving, stopping only long enough to grab a coffee and a road map.

I was a little more than halfway to the Canadian border by the look of things. That little nap I'd taken seemed to be enough to keep me going and that's what I did. Staying mad at Walt seemed to help, too. There was a moment, a very small one, when I was pulling up at the Canadian border crossing that I asked myself 'what the hell are you doing? Is this really worth it? Is what you're trying to leave behind that bad? What the hell is wrong with you, woman?'

That little voice reminded me too much of my mother's so I ignored it as best I could. I had no idea what I was doing, only knew that I had to do it. Besides, there wasn't time to even consider answering those questions. The light had turned green and it was show time.

"Good evening, ma'am."

He was young. Dark-haired and handsome.

"Could I please have your passport?"

I handed over my ID and held my breath. He seemed puzzled at first.

"What brings you all the way up here from Wyoming, Deputy Moretti?"

"I'm working a case. This isn't actually official business but more my following a lead on a person of interest." I gave him my most charming smile.

"Just where exactly is it that you're hoping to find this 'person of interest'? He seemed a bit wary.

"Cranbrook," I replied promptly.

During my coffee break, I did some research and came up with my story.

"It's actually kind of embarassing to tell the truth. I arrested this guy last month for a B and E. His court date's in two weeks and suddenly he says he has an alibi. He was with a friend up here. I tried calling a million times but couldn't get through so I thought I'd come on up and see if I could track this guy down. I mean, if he was up here, I'm going to look like an idiot and I'm not really liking that thought, y'know?"

"Did you try calling the local RCMP detachment?"

"I thought about it, but this seemed like a good excuse to come on up and visit Canada. I've never been here before, so..."

Oh, please, please just let me in! I'm a cop for crying out loud. I'm not going to do anything illegal...

"How long do you plan on being here?"

"A week ought to do it, probably less."

The young guy looked at my ID again and time dragged by.

"Are you carrying any firearms?"

"I won't be needing it so I left my gun back home."

"Any alcohol or tobacco?"

"Nope."

"Alright...but I suggest you do contact the Cranbrook RCMP to see if they can help you out."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," I told him, "I'll do that," and finally, finally, he smiled.

"Welcome to Canada, Deputy Moretti. Maybe next time, have a passport. Drive safe now. Lots of critters on these roads at night."

"I will, thanks," and I was over the border, out of the States and in about the last place anyone would look for me.

Now, all I had to do was find this place called Cranbrook. Some city in the south-east corner of the province of British Columbia. I would say that provinces were somewhat like our states, but from what I'd seen on the map, provinces here were huge! From what I could see in my headlights, this particular bit of province was dark and full of trees and continued to be so. A great place to hide-out...

I found the city after miles and miles of wilderness. It was very unassuming, very small. In fact, it was damn dreary if you asked me. I pulled in to an EconoLodge, checked in to a room and threw my duffel bag and myself down on the bed. God, I was so tired!

And so relieved. That story I'd given the border guard, it wasn't quite made up. It had been a case Walt had worked on. Last minute, the guy starts saying he was in Calgary, wherever that is, with a buddy on the night he broke in to the Red Pony and helped himself to some booze and cigarettes. Walt had made a few phone calls, knowing all along that the guy was lying, and so it was proven.

Walt.

Lying here on this lumpy bed, he invaded my thoughts again. And those thoughts were softer. Those thoughts were...longing. I couldn't let them drag me down. From the bar next door I heard the bass thumping out to what I imagined was the music of a live band.

I got up. Splashed some water on my face, touched up my hair, added some mascara and headed out. I wanted to sleep so badly, but I knew I wouldn't. I'd been shown a few times already that if I let myself be lulled, sweet thoughts of Walt came dancing along.

Now, if I let myself get drunk, I'd simply come back here and pass right out. Not the best long-term solution, but for tonight, it would do. Like an idiot, I just had to check my cell phone before I left my room. I wanted a reason not to go out.

Walt hadn't called me.

I told myself I was happy about that, but honestly, what I felt was that other 'h' word. If he loved me, he would've called. He would've tried to change my mind...

So, I pocketed the stupid thing and headed out to the bar.


End file.
